


The Healing Powers of Debauchery

by Totoffle



Series: Wanking Competitions and Other Erotic Events [1]
Category: Take That (Band)
Genre: M/M, Mark is a slut, Not-so-subtle Barlowen, Wanking competition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-08 01:19:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5477939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Totoffle/pseuds/Totoffle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What's the point of a reunion without a reinitiation ceremony?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Healing Powers of Debauchery

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this sometime in 2012 and finally decided to finish editing it. It took me far too long, and it could probably do with some more work, but I'm so sick of looking at it now! I'm quite fond of it, though. It's properly filthy, or at least it's trying to be, and I only wish it could've been more...
> 
> Any mistakes are mine.
> 
> (PS: Sorry(ish) for the Barlowen. I can't help myself, it's a disease. There's actually a Barlowen-centric companion fic that goes alongside this one, which I'll probably finish in about 2018.)

They're staying in a fancy hotel on the outskirts of town, doing some promotion for the album and tour. So far it's been fun, and Rob is pleased he's there to enjoy it. Now that all of the awkward, smoothing over the past stuff is out of the way, he's been able to relax and actually enjoy himself, and the company of the lads.

The other three went upstairs awhile ago, leaving him and Gary alone in the lounge. This too has been trouble-free, the pair of them chatting over drinks – red wine for Gary, lemonade for Rob – and quashing any and all demons that remain in their history. There's been quite a few of those to deal with, but it's fine. There's no pressure to impress, no worries about being funny or interesting, and definitely no need for one-upmanship. The whole thing is comfortable and relatively normal.

Rob is happy. He feels like he understands the dynamic, now, and sees himself slotting back into place nicely.

That is until Gary makes an offer that will change the way Rob sees the lot of them for the rest of his life.

"Listen, Bob," Gary says, caution in his voice. "The four of us had a chat about how things have been going recently, and we came up with this brilliant idea of how we could fully... _reinitiate_ you back into the group. If you're up for it, of course."

"Yeah?" Rob gulps down the rest of his drink, and sets the glass on the table. "What's that? You all force me to strip off and run naked through the high street?"

"Not exactly, although stripping is involved." Gary's face twists into a wicked grin. "Except you won't be the one doing it."

~

As he follows Gary up to one of their hotel rooms – judging by the mess, it's Howard's - Rob wonders what on earth this will involve. He tries to make an educated guess, but all of his ideas seem a bit too pedestrian for the way Gary had been talking down in the lounge. Someone was going to take their clothes off, he'd said.

Perhaps there _is_ going to be a stripper after all...

...but no, it's not that. It's something else entirely, something that Rob hadn't imagined even being a possibility and, as Gary explains it, he still doesn't quite believe what he's hearing.

"A..." The words stick in Rob's throat, so he coughs to shake them loose. "Another wanking competition? Are you _serious_?"

"Yep. We did it when we first got back together," Jason says. "Some people," he not-so-subtly gestures towards Gary, "were worried about embarrassing themselves, so we thought we'd try and fix it before we got started. Worked a treat. Now there's no embarrassment at all, just complete and total trust. We want you to be a part of that, Rob, as it should be."

It's a practical solution to a minor problem they've been having, Rob has to give them that much. In the nineties they didn't have the time or the energy to be ashamed around one each other, they tended to strip off and get on with it, no matter where they were or who was watching. This idea of theirs would go a long way to remove any remaining shame.

Overall however, it's completely frigging barmy.

So why is he smiling and, more to the point, why is he nodding?

"Okay, I'm in," he says, to the blatant relief of the others. "For the sake of the tour, of course."

"Excellent!" Gary says. "We'll have to re-organise the usual positions as there's an extra person."

"Like the old dance routines when we were suddenly a bod short," Howard chips in, patting Rob on the shoulder to show that he's only joking. "Right pain in the arse that was!"

"Well _this_ shouldn't be, not if we think about it." 

And Gary is off, in full Captain Barlow mode, directing them to their places on the floor. Rob kneels opposite him, Howard on his left and Jason next to Gary, a few square feet on the carpet between them. 

It's only then that he realises someone's missing.

"Er, lads? What about...?"

Gary rubs his hands together with glee. "That's the best part, Robert!" He glances towards the bathroom and calls: "You ready, Markie?"

The door opens and Mark steps out, fresh from the shower. His hair is damp and tousled, mostly piled on top of his head, some strands falling onto his face. He's positively glowing in his dark blue dressing gown (tied around his waist, falling off of one shoulder), and far too attractive for his own good.

"'course I am."

As Mark approaches, Jason raises his eyebrows. "You always have a shower first," he says. They all chuckle. Rob is confused. "I'll never understand that."

"No, you wouldn't." Mark grins and rolls his eyes, before turning to Rob. "Hiya mate, you certain about this?"

Rob's not certain, not at all, but he nods anyway. "I think so."

"Great!" Mark pats him on the shoulder as well. It's becoming a theme. "It'll be fun, relax and enjoy it."

Rob wishes he could relax, but it's the last thing he can do as he watches Mark step into the centre of the circle that they've made. He can guess what's about to happen, but a small part of him refuses to believe that it actually will.

"Don't get it on the dressing gown, right?" Mark says, directed mostly at Howard. "It took me ages to get it clean last time."

"Yeah, yeah."

With the usual display of grace, Mark sinks to the floor and flops onto his back, letting the thin robe fall open as he does. He slides his arms out of the sleeves and flings them above his head. He is, of course, completely naked, and there's no doubt that he's done this before.

Everyone murmurs in appreciation, but Rob, who's struggling to process it all, keeps quiet. He certainly _appreciates_ , of course, but it gets lost under the confusion.

"Looking good, Markie," Gary tells him, running his hand across Mark's skin, tinged pink after his shower. Mark shivers, but Rob guesses it's not because of the temperature. Rob is sweating a bit, which probably isn't anything to do with the temperature, either.

"He always looks good," Jason points out. Rob has to agree with that. "We ready, then?"

After a final glimpse at Rob to make sure, Gary declares the contest to be officially _on_.

"Who wins?" Rob asks as he unbuttons his jeans and goes for his zip with trembling fingers. Despite this, he's coping better now that it's happening, and he knows he'll be in control again in a minute or so. It's the anticipation which worries him, same as going on stage. "First to come or last?"

"Not important – the main thing is the taking part!"

Rob thinks that's an excellent rule, particularly as he isn't all that confident about how long he's going to last. Yes, he wants to stay in the game for as much time as possible, but it's difficult when Mark is there, on the floor, so gorgeous and fuckable.

He knows it, if the way he's splayed out is anything to go by. Arms stretched up and one knee bent to the side, Mark looks as if he's been practising this relentlessly, determined to be as sexy as humanly possible. As far as Rob can see, he's succeeded.

"Who gets to come on his face?" Howard asks. "It was me last, so someone else can have a turn."

"I reckon the new boy should have that honour," Gary says. "The _newest_ boy, I should say." He looks at Rob and raises an eyebrow. "If you'd like to, that is."

"Oh fuck, absolutely!"

"Go for it," Jason says. "Let's see if you make more of a mess than Howard did a couple of months ago..."

"Hey! It wasn't that bad. I'd had a couple of drinks, so my aim was a bit crap."

"A bit? It nearly went in his eye!"

Howard chuckles. "I suppose so. You forgave me though, didn't you Markie?"

Mark nods, but doesn't reply. He's busy: gently biting on his bottom lip, wringing his hands together, wriggling his toes.

"Patience, Mark." Gary's words soothe him, and he stops squirming. "It won't be long, not with you looking like that."

He _does_ look good. He _always_ looks good. Today he's even better than usual, all flushed and radiant and... naked, and Rob can't take his gaze away. That would be impossible. Except looking at Mark directly is wrong, somehow, because Rob isn't worthy - nobody's worthy, in actual fact. Mark is too good for all of them, too good for anybody.

Rob decides to focus on Mark's face. Not his eyes, because that'll be the beginning of the end. But if he stares at his cheek or his chin or his nose, at least for the time being, then he can concentrate.

He wishes he could be as cool and calm as the others. They're all laughing and joking, teasing each other about... it could be anything. Rob isn't paying attention, he's busy thinking. He knows there's nothing he can add anyway, he's missed far too much for that. Perhaps they were all right and this _is_ the best way to get rid of any lingering awkwardness. What could possibly be left to be embarrassed about?

It reminds him, weirdly, of their beginnings. The five members of Take That doing something ridiculous in secret that they'd never share with another soul. Back then it had seemed so terribly important for them to have clandestine moments like that, and now it feels the same, except somehow even more so.

Rob glances around the room. Most of what's going on is eerily familiar. Some of it is new.

There's Gary, loving being in control.

Howard, enjoying the game.

Jason, determined to win.

And he's there as well: included, involved, equal. They trust him and he trusts them, and it feels incredible.

Finally, there's Mark. Little Markie, thrilled at being used like this. That's almost enough to make Rob come there and then, but he wants to hold on and enjoy this for as long as he can. There's no way he's going to be the first to let go.

He considers the others a second time, attempting to work out how far gone they are. Gary's taking it slow, gazing at Mark's face with a knowing smile on his own. Jason and Howard seem closer to the edge; both of their foreheads have a slight crinkle in them, as if they're fighting it, wanting to last just a little longer. As the seconds wear on they crinkle more and more, and Rob realises this'll be between him and Gaz, even though it's _absolutely not_ a competition.

He isn't one to refuse a challenge, and he knows that Gary won't concede defeat, either. Despite everything, there's so much history between them, and in the back of Rob's mind he wonders whether this might do more than simply reinitiating him into the band.

Even if it can't fix it all, it'll be fun trying.

In the end, it's Jason who's first. He beams at Mark, his face full of love and pride as he covers his belly in come. When he's finished, he sighs, exactly in sync with Mark.

A minute later Howard does make a mess, but Mark doesn't appear to mind. In fact, Mark hums with delight as he peers at his crotch, smirking when he notices what Howard has done to him.

They're both satisfied, and both out of the game.

And so it's down to the two of them.

It's not a competition, and Rob tries his best to remember that. It's not a competition, it's not a competition... All the same, it is. He can tell from Gary's expression that he's not planning on letting go until the last possible second, and Rob refuses to let him win.

Gary fixes him with that steely gaze of his. It's usually unnerving, but not tonight.

"So," he says, lips twitching upwards. "This is it, you and me, Bob!"

"Yep," Rob nods, matching Gary's expression. "You and me."

"What d'you reckon to that, Markie?" Jason asks with a sly smile. "Rob and Gaz, competing over you."

"Just like the old days, eh?" Howard adds.

Rob is relieved he's not the only one with that thought running through his mind. He's been trying his best not to reflect on How Things Were. It hadn't been a real rivalry, not like some of the other stuff – the singing and the writing and Gary's other successes. Still, they'd both vied for Mark's attention whether they knew it or not, and, in the nineties, Rob had thought he was victorious. And, in all probability, he had been.

Then the noughties had rolled around, and he'd seen all of the promotional stuff for an album and a tour that he wasn't there for, and he'd begun to think that, maybe, that wasn't the case anymore. He was okay with that, deep down. He didn't have to triumph every time. 

This is very different to any of that. Very different to anything Rob has ever done in his entire life.

"Mmm," Mark mutters. He doesn't seem to care who's winning, all he wants to do is play. "S'nice."

"S'brilliant," Gary says, his hand speeding up. If his expression is anything to go by, he's about go crashing over the edge. "I think I'm..."

Mark's eyes widen as Gary comes; and Gary bites his lip and stares at Mark as he does. He covers Mark's chest in come, and immediately Mark's fingers are there, drawing them through it, the look on his face nothing Rob has ever seen before, on him or anyone else.

"Good boy," Gary whispers, and Rob is positive that nobody else is supposed to hear. There's a tenderness in his voice that Rob has never heard from Gary, and it's quite sweet. It's a shock, sort of, but not a terrible one. Rob isn't blind, nor is he stupid.

Mark gazes up at Gary for a moment or two longer, and the adoration is palpable. In a way, Rob doesn't feel he should watch. He's not a part of their world, he's not a part of their bond. Which really is fine. In the past few seconds he's got used to the idea that he has no choice in the matter, anyway.

Then, Mark breaks his gaze and turns to Rob. The smile hasn't faded, which is nice.

"Alright, mate?" he asks, sounding breathless. "How're you doing?"

"Great," he says, because that's pretty much all he can say. "Really great."

"Glad to hear it. Are you gonna come all over me, too?"

"Oh... Oh God, yeah, I'm gonna come, Mark..."

Mark's face lights up. He continues to stare at Rob, those big eyes of his all warmth and trust and quite a few things that are new. Debauchery, for a start. It's crazy, all of it. More than that though, it's fucking fantastic.

Nobody speaks as they look at each other, and Rob feels himself getting close. No! He doesn't want this to end. He doesn't want to come, doesn't want to stop this. Not yet.

Then Mark does something deplorable.

He licks his lips. A tiny flick of his tongue is all it takes.

Rob just about has the wherewithal to ensure his cock is positioned on Mark's jaw, and the intensity of his orgasm is magnified tenfold as he watches his come coat Mark's beautiful, once-innocent face. Some of it slides down his neck, and Rob can't tear his eyes away. 

None of them can. Everyone is kneeling there and staring at Mark, covered in so much spunk it would make a porn star blush. Mark isn't blushing; he's flushed pink, but it's not an embarrassed pink. His smile has only widened, and he sighs, happily.

"That," he says, breaking the silence that has descended, "was amazing." He licks his lips once more, and Rob yearns to start from the beginning. "Worth the wait."

Lovingly, Gary brushes Mark's hair out of the way. He's almost as blissed out as Mark, his cheeks pink as well. "It was gorgeous, Markie. You're so good at that."

Howard nudges Rob in the ribs and rolls his eyes affectionately. Jason catches him and laughs.

"Oh leave 'em alone, How," he says. "It's an intimate moment."

"I can see that!" Howard shakes his head, but he's beaming. "It was brilliant, though. Fucking brilliant."

"One of the best." Gary points at Rob, finger gun style. "You got here at the right time."

Rob can't argue with that.

"What happens now?" he asks, zipping his trousers up. It's all too soon; there's something missing. He won't be able to stand up and walk out of the room, not without some form of closure. So much has changed.

"Now the real fun begins," Jason says, winking. Rob doesn't get the drift, which Jason picks up on, as Jason tends to do. "Believe me, you'll enjoy this."

Gary leans down, and whispers to Mark, loud enough for them to all hear: "Your turn."

Straight away, Mark does as he's told, his hands flying to his cock and starting to pump the shaft. He tips his head against the carpet, closing his eyes and exposing what seems like acre upon acre of delicate flesh.

"Good enough to eat, eh Rob?" Gary says when he notices what's got Rob's attention. "Luckily enough, he loves it."

Howard points to a sizable lovebite on Mark's neck. "That's been there for weeks," he says, nudging Rob again and nodding at Gary. "I swear, he can't control himself."

"Nope," Gary says, nonchalantly. "I've added to it since you last saw it, mind, so technically it's not the same one."

Jason points to a further blemish on Mark's shoulder. "I noticed this one earlier. You can't help it, can you?"

Gary shrugs. "Why would I want to?"

He has a point. Simply watching Mark writhing whilst he oh-so-gently touches himself is getting Rob worked up, and all he wants is to recover so that they can do it all again.

For now, it's Mark's turn, and he's putting on a spectacular show.

He gets faster, panting a tiny bit; maybe it's part of the whole performance, maybe not. Rob chooses to believe that it's real.

"That's it," Gary says, practically purring as he gently caresses Mark's nipple. Mark gasps, so he squeezes his fingers together some more. Nobody else moves to touch, and Rob guesses that's the correct etiquette. "That feel nice?"

Mark whimpers. "Yeah," he says. "So nice."

"He's such a bloody exhibitionist," Howard says. "Thankfully. Bet you're glad you came back, aren't you?"

The question is directed towards Rob, but he can't bear to talk over this. Instead he nods, agreeing with Howard more than he's ever agreed with another person in his entire life. If he hadn't returned, if he hadn't taken the plunge and rejoined the band, he wouldn't be witnessing this.

Mark must be nearly there. His breathing is quick and his strokes are fast, and every so often he lets out a tiny moan.

"Good boy, Mark," Gary says, his hand now resting on Mark's chest. "We're all here, we're all watching."

This does something to Mark's state of mind, and he starts thrusting desperately into his own hand.

"Fuck," Mark whispers, opening his eyes and staring up at... Oh. He should've known, but Rob is quietly disappointed. It fades as Mark opens his mouth slightly, his breathing rapid, shallow and desperate.

"C'mon then Markie, show us all what you can do."

Everyone leans forward and Mark furrows his brow, concentrating on the task which is, quite literally, at hand.

Three more strokes and he's there, groaning as he comes in thick spurts, another layer mixing in with the one already covering his body. Everyone coos and tells him how beautiful he is, and he listens with his head to the side and his eyes closed, a huge smile on his face.

 _Christ,_ Rob thinks. _He really gets off on this!_

Mark pants for a minute or so, but soon slows to a deep, contented sigh.

Gary turns Rob and grins. "He's great, innee?"

For the second time that evening, Rob can't argue with that.

~

Mark goes for another shower afterwards, and, with no comment, Gary goes with him. Jason and Howard climb onto the enormous bed and immediately start a game of two-man pile-on.

Rob stands between both activities, unsure of what to do. He's new to all this, and hasn't been allocated an official role, yet. Should he leave or should he stay? His silent question gets a sudden answer when Jason grabs his wrist and pulls him towards the bed.

"Important part of the ritual," he says, pinning Rob to the mattress with one arm as he uses the other to try and put Howard in a headlock. "Those two'll join us when they've finished."

"You mean," Howard wriggles free of Jason's grasp and kneels up, looming over them both, "when they've finished _shagging_."

"Eloquently put, How."

They continue the game for a lot longer than they ever did when they were young, despite the fresh danger of twisted spines and dislocated knees. In the end Rob guesses that Howard wins, but, like before, it's the taking part that counts.

Rob hasn't got the energy to get up and go to his own room, so he rests his head on Jason's chest, his legs tangling with Howard's. Right now, this second, he wants to stay here forever. Everything is complete. A couple of pieces of the puzzle are missing, but apparently they'll be along soon.

The water stops running, and there's a _lot_ of giggling from the bathroom. Then a growl that's definitely Gary, a _thump thump thump_ , a yelp that's definitely Mark, and yet another round of filthy laughter.

"Oh fuckin 'ell," Howard groans. "I was only jokin' when I said that y'know!"

"I'm sure they aren't doing anything," Jason says, pausing exactly as a hushed, blissful moan wafts under the bathroom door, followed by an unrestrained expletive. "Well, I could be wrong." 

From Jason's shrug and the fact that neither he nor Howard are perturbed by it, Rob gathers that this is a perfectly normal occurrence. 

"So Rob, are you suitably reinitiated?"

Rob forces himself to open his eyes fully, rather than staring at the other two half-lidded. 

"Absolutely," he mutters, his voice thicker with sleep than he had anticipated. "Fuckin' awesome group we've got here. I reckon we'll go far."

"At the very least we might have a giggle."

"Could get on the telly."

"Might earn a few bob."

"Dunno why I ever left, really."

"Me neither." 

Gary emerges from the en suite, only a small towel hanging from his hips. With a wolf whistle, Howard tries to snatch it away, but Gary is quicker than him and dodges his grasp.

"But don't worry Rob," he beams, "you've caught up already."

He gets onto the bed and finds a space between Howard and Rob, either not noticing or not caring that his towel is askew. 

"Mark alright?" Rob asks, shuffling up to create some room. "We, er, heard yelps."

Gary is a picture of innocence. "Eh, did you? Weird, that. Hey, Mark?" he calls. "Did you hear anybody yelping when I was fucking you against the sink?"

Mark wanders out of the bathroom, naked and rubbing a towel over his hair. He shakes his head. "Nope."

He's always been useless at containing his laughter, and within seconds he's pelting towards the bed, taking a flying leap and landing rather clumsily in the middle.

"Oof! Watch the cock, you, I'll be needing that for next time!"

"Sorry mate!"

Mark immediately reaches an arm out and rubs at where he'd accidentally kicked Howard, nestling under Rob's arm as he does. Gary snuggles up behind Mark, pressing a soft kiss to his damp hair. Jason reaches to the bottom and pulls the sheet up over them all, moving so he's curled around Rob properly.

 _Yep_ , Rob thinks, as he drifts off to sleep with the rest of his band, _definitely good to be back._


End file.
